Redemption
by thethrillisgone07
Summary: Hatred stirs up dissension, but love covers all wrongs.
1. Chapter 1

He sat in the back of the bus, staring at the grey Boston skyline. It was January, a boring, dismal month with no purpose but to ring in the New Year and to drive everyone stark raving mad. It seemed to be made just for his purpose.

He wore his sunglasses, despite the fact that there was no sun. He felt as if he could hide his identity behind the glasses, keep the real world out. The world full of crime and murderers and poverty. The world that he was trying to make a better place.

But he found that he couldn't make it a better place. Ever since he lost her, the world didn't deserve to be a better place. In his eyes, it should stay the shitty, mean place it was to begin with. She had been his everything and yet, he still managed to fuck it up.

He had met her exactly six months ago, in the miserable heat of early August. And it was on the same bus, going to the same destination. Christ, it had been the same everything. The same feeling of loneliness, the same feeling of loss, the same feeling that the world couldn't be right. For fuck's sake, back then, it had only been a few months since he lost Rocco. And even though he could never forget him, she made the pain numb and eventually, it faded. She had placed him back in the spot where he hadn't been in almost six months.

But, as Connor always said when he caught him sulking around, he had been the one to fuck it up. He knew how she felt on what he did. He promised her that he would never do it. But still, he had managed to slip and screw everything over.

He had been occupied with the scenery flashing before his eyes when the bus stopped. The doors opened and a young woman, no older than 25, walked onto the bus. Her jeans were old, but they still looked incredibly good on her. Her red converse weren't new, but just like her jeans, they fit her look. Her black pea coat hit her waist and like everything else she had, was worn and somewhat dirty. Her dark blonde hair was long, far past her shoulders in deep waves and her bangs were side swept across her forehead. Her grey eyes were lined with kohl, but still gave the impression that she wasn't wearing eyeliner.

He watched as her hand slid the $1.25 that was needed for fare into the machine. Her nails were turquoise and chipped, but the skin on her hands was pale and smooth. She looked around the bus to find a seat when her eyes landed on him.

"Fuck," was the first thing that came to his mind. He hadn't seen her in two weeks and he thought the burning in him would at least settle to a tolerable, manageable state. But no, it was as if they were still dating. He wanted her to sit next to him so he could kiss her and kiss her and kiss her some more. He wanted to apologize and beg for forgiveness and make her not hate him. But he knew how she felt on this issue and that forgiveness wasn't in the picture. He was royally screwed.

Her eyes didn't get cold as he suspected they would. Instead, instant sadness and sorrow flooded them and she quickly took a seat close to the driver.

"I can't talk to her now," he thought, silently cursing her broken heart. If only he hadn't been such an idiot to do what he did, he could be sitting with the one thing that helped to keep him sane.

He saw her take out a piece of paper and a sharpie out of her old, green messenger bag. He smiled and cracked his knuckles.

"Always carrying a fuckin' sharpie with her," he thought in his head. He remembered what kind of things she would do with that sharpie. Draw on her shoes. Write on her notebook. Color something on the bus. She fucking loved sharpies.

She was writing furiously now. "She doesn't have a long bus ride. That always confused me why she even bothered with it," he thought. He had seen her write fast before. For Christ's sake, she was a journalist. She could write faster than Satan himself if she wanted to.

It had been ten minutes and she was still writing furiously. He was curious now to see what she was writing. He knew it had to be about him. She had only started writing after their breakup. He saw her hand reach up and pull the dinger.

"This is it. I'll never get to see what she was writing," was running through his head. He knew that she rarely shared her writing with anyone and if she did, it was supposed to affect you. And, almost all the time, it did.

The bus was coming to a stop and she turned around and started walking towards him. His heart was racing and his palms were sweaty. Was she going to say something to him? Should he say something to her?

Her grey eyes bore into his and he knew that despite his sunglasses, she could see how distraught he was. She extended her arm and in her hand with chipped nail polish, was a note. He looked up at her and on her pretty, heart shaped face, was a look that said, "This will explain everything." He took the note from her hand and she smiled a sad smiled. The bus now stopped and she walked to the back door, pushed the lever, and walked into the frigid Boston winter. He watched her walk away and to his surprise, she looked over her shoulder right at him. He felt as if he was being zapped to dust. She smiled and looked away, continuing her walk. He sighed. If he didn't get over her soon, he might as well practice celibacy for the rest of his life.

He turned around and looked at the note in his hand. His name was written in her favorite sharpie color: sky blue.

He opened the note with bated breath and his eyes started reading it slowly.

_Murphy, _

_Someone told me that love would all save us. _

_But how can that be, look what love gave us. _

_You know that you broke my heart. Fuck, you shoved it in a blender and then gave it back to me, sliced and diced. And every friend and family member I have tells me that I should fucking hate your guts, that I should want to castrate you. But I don't. Shit, I could never hate you. The only thing I could ever feel for you is love. But I don't want to. _

_I'm tired Murph. I'm tired of being lonely, even though it's been only two weeks. I'm tired of listening to everyone say that you're lower than a piece of shit. I'm tired of having this feeling that life isn't right without you. I'm just tired. _

_Seeing you on the bus today made me think. What if I did take you back? What if I did forgive you? Would I be the idiot? Fuck, I don't know. I'm writing this as I'm thinking all these thoughts. And my stop is coming up. But all I know is that I can't take being heartbroken any longer and I don't want to be single anymore. _

_God, this is so hard to say with words. I'm a journalist and I've never had this big of a problem with words until now. _

_I haven't stopped loving you, Murphy Kieran McManus. _

_I've only just begun. _

_Katherine "Kat" Lara Dooley. _

He stared out the window, his heart still racing.

She loved him. And, if he was correct, was going to love him. For a very, very, long time.

**A/N: Um, yeah. The lines, "Someone told me that love would all save us/ How can that be, look what love gave us" is from the song "Hero". I don't own it. This isn't going to be a long story, about three chapters. Reviews would be lovely, please and thank you. **


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a month since he received her letter and every time he went out; it was like he was searching for her all the time. Could she be in the grocery store? Could she be walking down the street? Could she be in an office building, conducting an interview? Every step he took was like a new possibility for him to see her.

When he had come home that day and told Connor of what happened, Connor couldn't believe it.

"She's pullin' yer leg," he would say. Even though he ignored it, something was bothering him. If she loved him so much, how come she didn't make the move to call him first?

He tried to live life normally. Fuckin' A, he tried to live life normally. But with the prospect of the love of his life coming back to him so close, it was hard to get out of bed in the morning without thinking of her. Connor was just calling him insane. But Connor had never been in love like this before.

It was a cold, damp February night when he went out for the first time since his breakup with her. It had snowed two weeks ago and the snow, which was now black and dirty, was beginning to melt, symbolizing that spring may be here soon. He and Connor were going out to a bar other than McGinty's, seeing that Doc wasn't feeling too well and McGinty's was closed for the night. They walked into Mary O'Connor's, a place three blocks down from McGinty's and were greeted with a sight that was close to McGinty's.

The bar was crowded and smelled of smoke and alcohol. It was loud, boisterous, and just the place Murphy needed to be. As soon as his feet hit the welcome mat, he felt that tonight would be the night. He would see her again and everything would be alright.

He and Connor took their places at the bar, each accompanied with a pint of Guinness and a cigarette pack. Murphy sipped his Guinness and for the first time in his life, wasn't calmed by the smoothness of it. He needed to see her. If he didn't see her tonight, he felt as if he should just stop searching. Mary O'Connor's, to him, held a certain kind of magic and for the first time since he was about nine, he felt that anything and everything could happen.

The night went on, he had inhaled one, two, three Guinness's and she still hadn't showed up. He was beginning to become frightened and his brother saying that "She's not comin', get yer head out of the clouds," didn't help him.

He was on his fourth Guinness and he was starting to feel a little buzz. "Christ, I hope she comes before I'm totally wasted," he thought. The last thing he needed was her to see him drunk.

As he was finishing his Guinness, the door opened. Murphy turned his head away, now beginning to realize that she was probably not coming. He turned and looked at Connor, expecting him to be engaging in a conversation with the bar maid. But no, he was looking at the door with a bewildered expression on his face.

"Christ almighty" he whispered, his cigarette dangling from his mouth. Murphy turned and looked at the door.

She was here. Her hair was a mess, her coat was buttoned the wrong way, her knee below her denim mini skirt and above her black, long boots, was cut, her face was flushed from the wind, and she was crying. He never thought that something looked so disastrous was so beautiful.

She stared at him and smiled.

"Hi," she said softly. He put his cigarette out, got off the bar stool, and walked over to her. He stood so close to her he could smell her perfume. His favorite: Burberry Brit.

He didn't say anything. He just stared at her and took her in. Half of him wanted to hate her for making him wait. But the other half wanted to take her into his arms and never let her leave. He was at war with himself and it was almost as painful as losing her.

The tears that came down her face started coming down faster and she was sobbing. She looked down at the floor and her shoulders heaved with her heavy sobs. He knew that if he didn't do something, she would cause a scene in the bar.

"Where'd you go?" he whispered softly. She looked up at him, her great, big grey eyes staring up at him.

"I've missed you so," she whispered back. "Seems like it's been forever that you've been gone," she said, before throwing herself at him. She cried into his worn out black sweater and he wrapped his arms around her. She cried and cried and he just stood there. He knew deep down inside that she had forgiven him. She had gone against her moral code, shut out everyone that mattered to her, and forgiven him.

"Kat, it's alright," he said, rubbing her back.

"No, it's not alright," she said into his sweater. She raised her head and looked up at him.

"I've been like fuckin' chicken shit. Ever since I saw you on the bus that day, I've been terrified. I thought that after what you did, I could get over it and go on living my life. But I can't. I can't go on when everything here reminds me of you. For fuck's sake Murphy, I broke down in the grocery store yesterday because I saw that they had Captain Crunch on sale and that's your favorite," she said. He smiled. She would always buy him a box of Captain Crunch when it was on sale.

"I've said 'Fuck you' to everyone who says that I should just get over you. Murphy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I forgive you and I can't go on without you. Can you please forgive me?" she asked, her grey eyes gleaming with tears. Murphy couldn't take it anymore. Crying into his sweater, her hair a complete mess and her perfume invading his senses, he took her face into his hand, brought his lips to hers, and kissed her with everything he had to offer. His tongue coaxed her mouth to open and he tasted what he had been deprived of for a month. He thought he was going to loose it right there and then in the bar.

When he let go, he looked at her face. God, she was beautiful. There was no one else who could compare with her and there never would be.

"If anyone should be askin' for forgiveness, it should be me," he whispered to her. "I'm sorry. I should never have-" he started, but she put a finger up to his mouth.

"Please, don't remind me of it. Just-" she started, but he didn't let her finish. He pressed his mouth to hers once again and he knew that it was fine. Everything was going to be fine.

**A/N: Alright, so the lines "Where'd you go/I've missed you so/ Seems like it's been forever that you've been gone," are from Fort Miner's "Where'd you go, I miss you so". There's a reoccurring pattern here with the lines from these songs, but next chapter, it won't be a song. Yeah. Um, okay. **


	3. Chapter 3

He puffed idly on the cigarette dangling in between his fingers. He was lying in his bed, his sheet covering half of him and his arm was around her. He had just had the most amazing night of his life and sleep wouldn't come to him.

_He kissed her and kissed her, until he couldn't tell where he ended and she began. It was so bittersweet, so gentle. If only the other bar patrons could be that understanding. _

_He felt someone tap his shoulder and he let go of her to turn around. It was his brother, who looked awkward. _

"_Murph, maybe ya should just take this up to the apartment. I'll go stay with Da tonight," he said, looking at the floor. Murphy smiled at him and turned to Kat. _

"_Whad'ya say?" he asked with mirth in his voice. Her tears had dried and she smiled. _

"_Okay," she said in a soft tone. He took her hand, led her back to the bar, grabbed his coat, and led her out the door. _

"_What've you been up to, kitty kat?" he asked, using his pet name for her. She began to swing their hands back and forth and smiled. _

"_Other than thinking about how fucking stupid I am? Working, sobbing, listening to The Smiths full blast non-stop," she said. He smiled and kissed her hand. He loved how sarcastic and witty she was. Conversations never got boring with her. _

"_How about you, Murph? Been on any 'jobs' lately?" she asked. Of course she knew everything about what he, his brother, and his father did. _

"_Nope. Even if there had been a job, I wouldn't have gone on it. Da and Connor have been tellin' me that I'm too much of an emotional wreck lately and that I've been actin' like a girl," he said. She laughed, but it was a cruel, cold laugh that died shortly. She turned to him and stopped. _

"_I'm sorry I did that to you," she said. He looked into her eyes, which had turned into an emerald shade of green. Her lips were swollen and bruised from all of their kissing in the bar. _

"_I was askin' fer it. Doin' what I did, I feel worthless to ya," he said, stroking her cheek. She shuddered from the close contact and closed her eyes briefly. "C'mon," he said. "Let's get back to my place."_

_She smiled and followed his lead. For another block and a half, the two walked in a comfortable silence, anticipating getting to Murphy's room. _

_When they arrived at his building, the excitement in Murphy was at a boiling point. He would turn and look at her and the intensity in her eyes would melt him. In the block and a half that they walked to his apartment, he turned and looked at her four times and each time, he was so close to just pulling her into a dark alley and having his way with her there. _

_As soon as they stepped into the elevator, he pushed her into the wall and attacked her mouth with his lips. Electricity jolted through his body as she kissed him back with the fervor that matched his and he felt her hands running through his hair. His mouth moved from hers to her jaw line and her neck and the moans she was making were almost enough to bring him over the edge. Just as he was about to unbutton her coat, they arrived to his floor. _

_He grabbed her arm roughly and walked as fast as he could to his doorstep. In what felt like years, but was only seconds, he opened the door and pulled her in as he stepped in. He slammed the door shut and backed her up into the door, once again assaulting her mouth with his. _

_His hands began to unbutton her coat to reveal the tight gray sweater she wore underneath and his hands raked the flesh underneath it. It was warm and inviting, just like her mouth. His hands worked up to the bra that held her bust and once again, excitement shot through him. He knew she was well endowed and, least to say, he was a boob man. _

_His mouth became disconnected with hers and she pulled the gray sweater off and left her standing in her mini skirt and red bra. He just stood there, inches away, and stared. She was more beautiful than ever in this state. Her lips were red and swollen; her hair (which was a mess initially) was tussled from his hands running through it, her eyes were no longer grey with emotion or green with anticipation, but blue with lust. Her skin was pale and translucent in the dark of the apartment and her small waist and overflowing bosom were enticing. She smiled that infamous smile that could soften the coldest mobster. _

"_You're wearing too many clothes," she said, stepping forward and pushing off his coat. When he just continued staring at her, she found his belt and unbuttoned it, throwing it to the side. He still said nothing. _

"_Murphy, what's up?" she asked wrapping her arms around him. He could smell her perfume again and it took him a minute to muster up what he was going to say. _

"_Why did you come back to me?" he said, pushing a piece of hair out of her face. "I did the one thing that ye asked me never ta do, and here we are, half naked and back together again," he said. She looked up into his eyes again and he could see that she hadn't lost that lustful sapphire gaze. _

"_Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails," she said in a soft whisper. "My mother gave me a bookmark with that on it when I was 16 and I found it again after we broke up. I read it and knew that what we had wasn't just a relationship, but love. Real, honest to goodness love. And I couldn't just throw that out because you made an honest mistake," she said, stroking the scar above his right eyebrow lightly. _

_His heart was about to burst from happiness. He took her chin in his hand and kissed her with all the love he could muster. That night, for the first time in his life, he didn't just fuck or shag or have sex. He made love. _

He looked down at the girl that held his heart. She was asleep; her arm wrapped around his midsection, her curls splayed everywhere. He knew that she deserved better. Christ, why would she settle for him?

But that poem, that verse from the bible, stuck to him like glue. She really did love him if she said all those words to him the night before.

And all he knew he could do was love her back. But he also knew that he had something, that he had gained something from all this.

He was redeemed.

**A/N: Done! Reviews, please and thank you**!


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